


Destined For Trouble

by Beaufale



Series: A Billy Hargrove Exploration [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abuse, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, anger issues, slight pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 22:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12617104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beaufale/pseuds/Beaufale
Summary: After a fight with dad, Billy takes off. He's angry, pissed at the world, but he'll be damned if he let's anyone help him.





	Destined For Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't write fanfiction. But I had to write this, I'm fascinated by this pairing. This is not a happy fic, and it's not particularly nice. It's mostly an exploration of Billy's character. The story may grow, but don't hold your breath. This is unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own

Blood drippled from his lips. Billy was surprised at that, normally his father was so careful not to leave marks, especially on the face. Whatever, didn’t change a goddam thing.  
He slammed the front door as he left, he’d pay for it later but now he didn’t care. He pictured Susan jumping at the noise, she was such a jittery woman, wouldn’t surprise him if Daddy Dearest hit her too, behind closed doors, leaving no marks.

Speeding down the road, Billy pumped the volume, scream singing lyrics, and slamming the steering wheel. He wanted to fight or fuck, or both. But he’d had the girls he wanted, and he wasn’t sure he had the patience to charm one of them back into bed, after all he didn’t normally do repeats. Maybe he could pay Mrs Wheeler a visit, she’d jump at the chance to fuck him, he was sure. Might be a problem if her husband was home, but it’d be fucking hilarious if Nancy or that kid brother of hers found out. 

Some other time, Billy thought as he drove out of town. It was just too much effort tonight and he was in a shitty mood. He pulled up at the edge of the woods, an area he’d came to before with a hook up, nice and secluded. He got out of the car, kicking the dirt and climbing up onto his bonnet, laying back and watching the stars.

If he couldn’t fuck someone tonight, then fighting was all that was left. But the was only one person he really wanted to hit, and he’d always been too scared to hit back, tonight no exception. So mulled over other punchable faces he knew. Most of his friends probably need a hit to the face, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the aftermath of being the guy that smacked down all his mates.

There was Harrington, but he was the shittiest fighter he’d come across in a while. He wanted someone that could actually hold his own. And honestly, Max’s threat wasn’t something to laugh at. She was a scary bitch when she wanted to be. He wondered if she’d grow up like him. Half of him hoped she’d be better, for his sake if nothing else, the other revelled in the idea of bringing her down to his level. Why should she get to be happy?

Ah he really was a sick bastard. Billy calmed after a while, deciding there really was no one around to fill his needs. Hawkins was such a shitty fucking place. In Cali, he’d have been able to find three or four people in a 5-mile radius for both. And no one would care if Billy punched a guy or sucked his dick. Okay, some people care, but not people his age at least. And he could live with that. His father, not so much.

 

He’d go home soon, it’d been an hour or so, they’d likely all be sleeping and he could slip in, not worry about anything until tomorrow. And then he could deal with this all over again.

He sped back into to town, cutting though a red light. He didn’t think about it, it was late and it was Hawkins. But just his luck the cop sirens flashed behind him. And of fucking course it was the Sheriff. He’d only met that guy once, when he woke up on the floor of the Byer’s house. The big guy had given him a shakedown, threatening to arrest him if he ever pulled a stunt like that again.

He wound down the window as the cop approached.

“Thought that was your car, Hargrove,” The Sheriff said leaning down, “See, normally, I’d be able to look past this, cause I’m tired and it’s been a long day, and I don’t want to deal with paper work involved tomorrow. But you were speeding and ran a red light? You’re asking for trouble.”

Billy rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze forward.

“I ain’t mucking around kid, look at me.”

“Just write me a ticket and go.” Billy said, glaring at the older man.

“You been in another fight?”  
Billy scowled, ducking his head. He reached up and adjusts his mirror, sure enough his lip is swollen and bruised. He grumbled bringing his hand down hard onto the wheel.

“Tell me what happens if you go home with a ticket. I know you don’t have the means to pay for it, at least, not with money.” Billy would pay alright, with blood and tears.

“What the hell do you want Sheriff?”

“I’m not an idiot Hargrove, I lived in the city for a long while, I’ve seen this happen before.” The Sheriff was talking in such an infuriating way, Billy almost wanted to kick him. At the same time, he almost wanted to cry.

“Respectfully sir, you don’t know shit.”

“I can’t help you kid, if you don’t talk to me.” He’d lost his gruff edge, and nothing had scared Billy more that night.  
He fought the urge to tell the truth, staying silent.

“Alright, I can’t make you talk. And I’ll let you go with a warning tonight, Hargrove. Any more shit, and your ass is in hot water. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”  
The Sheriff’s hands were still on is window frame. Billy wondered what would happen if he just took off, would it hurt the Sheriff? Or would he move out of the way in time?

“You know where to find me if you change your mind.” Now he let go, and Billy wasted no time speeding off. 

Billy didn’t see the Sheriff shake his head, muttering “Damn kid,” with a mournful frown.

It hadn’t been Billy’s fault, the way he grew up. But the anger he couldn’t let go of, that was a hundred percent on him.

 

Of course, the cop had riled him up again and he couldn’t stomach going home. So he decided to take another chance.

“What are you doing here, Hargrove?” Harrington frowned, blocking the doorway. Parts of his face were still yellow from bruising.  
Rightly, Billy didn’t know. He’d already decided he wasn’t gonna beat Harrington up, but something tugged him here.

“If you’re just gonna stare at me, do it through a window.” Harrington said closing the door.

“No, wait. I wanna… Wanna apologise.”  
Now Harrington stared at him, mouth agape. “Are you fucking serious? You’re goddam mental.” He continued closing the door.

“I mean it, I am sorry, really sorry,” Billy pushed a hand against the wood, “I shouldn’t have taken it as far as I did.”

“Christ, ya think? You shouldn’t have started at all, what’d those kids ever do to you?” But Harrington let the door open again. “It’s been weeks Hargrove, what made you come here now?”

All Billy could do was shrug. He did feel bad when he came to his senses, at least about how fucked up he made Harrington’s face. Still, he hadn’t apologised unless forced by Daddy for years. “I should go; I didn’t mean to end up here.”

Billy turned to leave when Harrington called out “Did you get in another fight?”

Touching his swollen lip, he scoffed, “Kinda, it was pretty one sided.”

He faced Harrington again, who seemed to be internally debating something. “Did you… did you wanna come in? My folks aren’t home.”

Now Billy smirked, “What exactly are you inviting me in for?”

“Jeez, never mind then. I just thought you mightn’t wanna go home. You always gotta ruin everything don’t you?”

“It’s my speciality.” His smirk turned sour. “But if you got booze, I’d love to come in.”

 

Harrington lead him inside to the kitchen, and handed him a beer from the fridge.

“Your dad won’t miss it?” Billy took it anyway, opening it and swigging.

“I learnt a while ago, neither of them actually remember what they left behind, unless it’s hanging on the wall.” Harrington said, sitting up on the bench on the other side from Billy.

Billy looked over into the lounge where massive pieces of art hung. “Is it expensive or some shit?”

“Ridiculously. Mum’s crazy about that shit, art’s her life, and Dad buys her whatever she wants to appease her.”

“Rich bullshit. It’s just some paint slapped on a block, that one’s not even a picture.”

“It’s abstract or some shit. I don’t know, it makes her happy.”

Billy focuses on the art, not bringing himself to look at Harrington, even though he can feel the weight of the other boy’s stare. “So your parents are away a lot?”

“Every other week I reckon.”

“Must be nice. You must’ve thrown some wild shit yeah?” 

“A couple. Dad would go nuts if he found out though. It just isn’t worth it anymore.” Harrington smiled sadly, looking down at his beer. 

“Yeah, if I threw a party, my Dad might kill me.” Billy chuckled darkly, “But he’s never away from home for me to have that chance.”

Harrington grimaced, then downed the rest of the can. “Another?”

Billy nodded finishing off his own. 

Harrington grabbed the rest of the six pack, paused before grabbing another full pack, though a different brand. “C’mon let’s sit by the pool.”

Billy followed, muttering to himself “‘Course the King has a fucking pool.”

They talked bullshit for a while, until about the forth can when Steve just fucking asked him at point blank

“Does your dad hit you?”

Billy choked on his drink, before his anger flashed “What the fuck are you asking that for?”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Billy. I don’t even know why I asked, it’s not my business.”

“You’re damn fucking right it’s not your business. You have no idea what’s going on.” He jumped out of his seat.

“Hey you rock up here outta the blue, bruised up and apologising, what’d you want me to do?” Steve rose too, mirroring him.

“Not ask fucking personal questions!” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Steve said, hands out in a placating manor.

“You didn’t fucking upset me. You pissed me off. I didn’t ask you if your parents fucking neglected you.” Half of Billy wanted to flee, the other half wanted to lash out. Instead he stayed rooted.

Steve took a tiny step toward him, “I honestly didn’t mean anything. Forget I said anything.”

They both stared at each other for a few minutes. Billy started filling his eyes prickle, and he damn near wanted to scream. He wasn’t some fag; he wasn’t. He didn’t cry when someone actually found his insecurities. He watched as Steve took another small step toward him, worry, pity and just the tiniest bit of fear clear on Steve’s face.

Billy deflated, turning away and wiping his eyes. “It’s only me, I think. Maybe Susan. He doesn’t hit Max. Those two are literally never along together, so you don’t need to worry about her. If you were. I don’t know, you have some pervy relationship with those kids.” He masked his pain with barbs.

“I’m worried about you, Billy.”

“Fuck off. Are you a fucking queer bitch or something? I don’t fucking want your ‘worry’.” Billy shouted, without any heat. “Whatever, I’m leaving.”

Billy turned away heading back inside. Steve grabbed his arm telling him to wait, but he now he lashed out, shoving Steve against a wall. Billy glared at pretty boy, his hands on Steve’s shoulders, pinning him there. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Billy didn’t hear it.  
He didn’t hear it because he covered Steve’s mouth with his own, kissing hard. Steve was still for a second, before grabbing Billy’s jacket and kissing back. Almost without thinking, Billy pressed up against the other boy, grinding on Steve’s thigh. Steve moaned in his mouth and it was the hottest thing in this shitty cold town. 

But just like that Billy remembered where he was, and why he’d moved to Hawkins in the first place.  
He jumped back from Steve, who looked all kinds of confused, fingers still reaching towards him. Billy knocked them away, all but sprinting to the door. When he sung it open he caught a glimpse of Steve and he hadn’t moved an inch. Billy wasn’t sure why that upset him.

He got in his car and squealed away, knocking over the goddam mail box as he did so. Who gives a fuck? He travelled at double the speed limit, ignoring signs and lights, but lucky him, no one was up past 1 o’clock in fucking Hawkins.

Flinging loudly into his drive way, Billy made no effort to be quiet like he should have. If he was a little less intoxicated, he might think he wanted to wake his dad and take the beating that would ensue. As luck would have it, no one woke, or at least no one got up. All he wanted to do was pass out, but he couldn’t get Steve out of his head. It made him irrationally angry. He kept telling himself, the only reason he went after boys in Cali was because he could. Billy wasn’t an actual fag. But he sought Steve out and he fucking knew why even if he didn’t want to admit it.

When’d he start calling Harrington Steve anyway? He punched the wall, breaking the plaster, and bruising his knuckles. There’d be hell to pay when Daddy Dearest saw it. He was almost looking forward to it. He grinned darkly to himself, flexing his now injured hand. He hoped it hurt more in the morning. If not, well he’d hit something, someone, until it did. Billy knew now more than ever what kind of person he was. A freak, a cruel bastard, a faggot. But not a fucking pansy oh no. No, if anyone found out he’d kissed Steve, he’d bash them til they couldn’t get up. He hit the wall again, a different spot, a different hand and it hurt worse this time. Now the light switched on.

“What the fuck are you doing boy?”

He swung his door open, Dad standing outside, with Susan down the hall. “What I fucking want.”  
The blow came swift and then another. Billy keeled over, grinning widely, reopening the split on his lip. He didn’t fight back, but one day he would. 

On that day Daddy Dearest won’t get back up.

Because you see, boys like Billy, they were destined for trouble.


End file.
